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[Fallon]

35th Winter 513 AV
Evening


Fallon remembered the last time she was in Sunberth, and how the thick heavy snow prevented movement. On how the fowl white blanketed the world in chill and left her hibernating within whatever safe spot she could find. Huddled up, cold and alone, with a distinct sense of helplessness causing her to withdraw and focus only on survival. Already she was having nagging feeling that those events would repeat themselves, but this time was different. Least, that was what she told herself. She was in shelter for now, some cheep ale before her and the warmth of numerous bodies fighting back the ice. Peace of mind was also there, or at least until he broke the news to her.

Chewing at her lip at annoyance she drummed her fingers against her arm. So that was that then, he had well and truly dumped her.

There was a set scowl upon the face of Fallon, her brow knit into a line with her arms having folded themselves defensively. It was upon a chair that she stared out at the world with displeasure, an aura of pent up rage and frustration having begun to radiate from her form. Something for the moment that had worked at pushing back those that came near either questioning or looking for a quick petch. Her back pressed against the chair, her chin having nuzzled its way down into her furs and leathers. Brooding she looked down to Orvin, who had sat himself down next to her, his large head lying dopily on the table top with his large baying eyes looking out to the world.

She was stiff, her joints having locked up and her sides sticking at being sore. Riding and travelling - though it was in her nature to do so - was no easy task. And nor was Sunberth in terms of ease of doing tasks. Rubbing her brow she eased off her grimace. Now was not the time to lose her temper, and to do so would only cause trouble if not now then later on. They were after all stuck in this shyke hole of a city for an indefinite amount of time - or perhaps more specifically neither had specified how long they were going to be here for.

A gloved hand scratched at Orvin's head, a releasing of a sigh as she turned her gaze down to her weapon heavy waist and her pack. She could not exactly get up and leave any time soon, he did ask her to stay here in his absence - why here of all places she did not know. Why not at the tent city or somewhere she could stretch out instead of having the eyes of locals giving her questioning looks. Fallon released a groan, "Petching... petching... petching... Hurry up already."

[Adam King]

Adam tightened the leather coat tightly against himself as he advanced through the cold, wincing bothered whenever the wind would blow stronger. The lights of the Pig were already visible at the distant end of the road and he held on to that light as a sort of welcoming rope pulling him closer. There was promise of heat to come from both outside of his body as well as from within in ingestable liquid form. Still, cold or no cold, as soon as Adam came into distinct sight range of the patrons that might have been watching through the oft-replaced windows, his body instantly straightened and gait went proud and determined. By the time he hit the door open, yet softly enough not to warrant upset from the bar staff with a practiced, familiar and well calibrated swing, he displayed total relaxation and confindence nodding hello to those familiar. His scan of the place revealed that there were only a couple of completely unfammiliar places and his sight lingered in unabashed inspection of said folk. By the time he reached the bar counter, Adam stretched right over another patron to shake the hand of Fancy Ferguson. Fancy was a young man, face studded with many piercings, a nostril not all there. The thug's demeanour was always pleasant, almost sickeningly so, even while he would for example threaten to kill someone's little brother. While Ferguson's first area of trade were drugs, he was known for a kill or two, the sort of 'gentleman' the gangs would avoid hitting unless they really had to. What's more, rumour had it Fancy had Night Eyes approval for his drug runs, and that was as close as anyone would publically got to the Night Eyes without being a member. And that was all more than reason enough to offer a respectful shake of the hand. It was along thoughts like these that King felt a mix of worry and pride at the fact that he'd never had a "kill" in the full sense. He'd been in skirmishes, wounded guys that later died, imobilised guys that later died and helped set up traps that later got people killed. But, lowered security factor as it was in Sunberth, King had never gotten a signature kill, and not even for lack of trying. He ordered the hard cheap liquor that he usually had, leaning back against the counter in the same move of snatching up the now half-filled glass. After a sip, he stretched his neck, eyes closed to focus on the kinestehesic sensation now, before the swill began to kick in. Once more, his gaze scanned over the room, eyes narrowed for oportunity, be it entertainment or business.

[Fallon]

Doors clicked, hinges groaned, the hum and fall of voices drifted in and out like the tide. Her eyes only glanced up briefly, her brow rising when the newest of patrons came in only to scan the sea of faces. Lids pinched as she stared in regard, a pause of fingers drumming and a momentary unfurling of arms. She gave a lean, head tilting and then lowering firstly to Orvin as he let out a yawn, and then to the discarded contents of the dirty water the locals called 'alcohol'. There was a grimace as she lifted the swill to her lips once more and took a firm glug, before she gave a shudder. It may have tasted foul, but the effects were still the same - with the other additions of course.

There was a lower as she watched one of the locals brush past, a mean look that was met by a nastier one. She glared out from beneath her brow, or at least until her fringe finally fell forward. The woman released a huff, her shoulders sagging before she returned to leaning back in her chair. It became a standoff between her and the rest of the tavern at that point, a silent crackle of aura's and raw pressure as it built up. Leaning back in her chair her gaze turned cool, her legs stretching out and crossing over as she took the room in. Eyes weighed up frames, darting to and from faces as she guessed their occupations and professions. Mercenaries, labourers, thieves and cutthroats - she was most certainly left in a den of vipers on this occasion.

Her hand patted the kukri, a subtle reminder to herself that she was not completely defenceless. More so when another local hovered her. Eyes looked up, the shadow of a stranger looming over head and a grin at her. She gave a grimace as he leaned down, a locking of gaze. Orvin's ears pricked, his eyes staring to the local and then to his master and her expression. Annoyance buzzed there, the brow twitching as she shook off the buzzing effect. Releasing a sigh she spoke up and addressed him with her distinctly nonlocal accent, "You want something?"
"You got a pretty face lass."

Pulling a face she pressed her chin into her hand and let her eyes drift away. Or at least until he slammed a hand down, "Oi, talking to you. You better listen-"
He did not get a chance to finish before she emptied the rest of her tankard in his face. Her eyes burned and teeth bared in a wolfish fashion. Even the entire voice dropped into that of a growl, "Go stick your head in snow."

[Adam King]

There was the thing about Sunberth - it would invariably provide entertainment, and free entertainiment at that. Just a matter of one or two minutes and poof! Prick goes up to girl-with-wolf. Prick gets his prick on. Sploosh, drink goes flying. Things get tense, all set to blow. It was when these moments came about that something in Adam nudged at him to do the right thing, to be on the side of right. To perhaps tell the petcher to leave the girl alone. The next microsecond, though, this initiative would then be instantly cancelled out and ridiculed within the recesses of his mind by a couple of decades of Sunberth experience. Besides, he noted upon inspection, things looked potentially fair. The girl, smaller though she was, was equipped for trouble evidently enough and the wolf seemed like it could bite out a throat or two. Next, he looked the petcher up and down. He wasn't part of the upper reaches of the Sunberth food chain, not a recognisable face like Fancy. So King just leaned back, taking a third sip of his drink, back relaxed against the bar counter, smiling to the moment of tension escalating across the room. He wasn't the only one. One thing Adam was looking out for, though, was third parties that might intervene. While it wasn't any time for heroics, he would try to prevent third parties from getting involved. You let that sort of thing happen a lot and next thing you know you end up with a government. In a reflex motion, he also tapped the outside of his right boot with the tip of his left one. The dagger was there. Just in case.

[Fallon]

Fallon glared, heckles and hairs rising as she met the nose of the local. He did not look impressed either, then again who would be if half a tankard was just emptied upon ones face? The wolfish look remained fixed, no sign of backing down any time soon either. The local's hand clamped around her wrist, an angry glare back to her, "Whut you say?" The chair slid back as she stood, a firm pull against his grip. There was no intention to let go any time soon, and so a silent standoff was made between them. The heads of the tavern turned, the eyes watching as the small and the giant went toe to toe.

"Head. Snow. Stick. Now," the voice dropped into a husky tone. The tavern held its breath, her free hand reaching round to the hilt of the Kukri, with her fingers curling around the worn shaft. She felt the hot air upon her face, the eyes unwavering and flinching. Such a wonderful welcome to Sunberth, an much better than her last one.
"Make me," he breathed, "I bet you can't even swing that little tooth pick about. Bet it's just for sho-"
Recoiling her head back, Fallon brought it racing forward into a mighty head butt. There was a crack as the foreheads collided, a sharp recoil as they split apart. Her head blinked, the sharp wince racing through as she sharply staggered away. Hands slipped, the room spun as her now free hand rested upon the chair.

With her eyes turning, she shook her head and forced a firmer and more conscious hold to take over. Steel groaned, a scrape of chairs as patrons stood almost in surprise that she had reacted. Blinking away the black patches, the kukri was drawn and the sharp tip set a wavering at him. For a moment she watched the local gain his own senses, surprised that he once more had been denied. The air rattled out beneath her teeth, an echo behind the distinctive growl of Orvin as he padded on next to her.
"You little bitch!"
"Just try it!" was her retort. The point was still held at him, the pair sizing themselves up. There was only a brief wince, her head gently throbbing and her pulse quickening. What a great way to become welcome to the city once more - and begrudgingly be noticed. A hiss escaped, she was certain her brother was not having this much fun with his return.

[Adam King]

"Whut you say?" Adam's mouth frowned some considering the question. It wasn't a very good question. It invited to all sorts of socially-bashing answers like "Words too advanced for ya'?", "Too much wax in those shykeholes?" or "What, stupid aand deaf?". But she didn't. Rather, she upped the ante in terms of challenge, instead of belittling to pressure detension. The girl was going for the rawer form of dominance. Feeling the push, the lug challenged the woman's legitimacy in carrying her weapon. Now, now she would start carving down his ego with sniped wit and- Sweet petchin' gods she slammed him! With the rush of the violence surprising him, Adam's senses went focused, but with the action not being close, his attention needen't center on how to defend himself. Instead, what he noticed were, in a second's fascination, the small droplets of ale flying off of the man's face and forehead with the shake of the slam. Adam placed his glass aside while the two staggered for another second. By the time their brains had settled back into their skulls, she had her weapon out, and his cuss was met with further challanges on the woman's end, wolf growling along. Was she damaged, with a deathwish? Was she trying to make a public point that she's the type not to be messed with? It was fair enough to say that it was close to the only way to have insured suvival in 'Berth, save a strong pack of wild thugs behind you: reputation. Something Adam was struggling to build for years and here was this newcomer taking instant strides in the matter. But then again, she was also at highest risk. The challenges meant that the only way the big guy was going to walk away was either after messing her up or with a very broken reputation. A broken reputation meant he was likely to become a victim the next day to bigger fish. Adam couldn't help but think that one of them would die from this, today or the next day or soon after. It was also visible in the thug's eyes. The angry one already felt afraid, it could be seen in the slightest nuances to his gestures and words, probably even more than her. But he also knew, if instictively, that he couldn't save face. So Adam King stepped forward, beyond an invisible contextual social shield. Faking relaxation with a casual tone, he intoned loud enough to be heard over the room. Hand gestures tried to join his words in wavy gestures to make light of the conflict. Adam picked the words he felt would best defuse things, to give both people an exit. "C'mon ragde. I think the lil' cunny's shown she's tough shyke, right? She's Sunberth-balled. Petch it - call it even, she's earn'd 'er seat in the Pig'." The bearded fence smiled towards the man softly, yet in attempted assertiveness. The brawler's facial expression faltered for a half-seond showing he felt torn. Conservation instinct told him to take the exit with lesser damage to reputation. Anger told him to strike. Adam's eyes stayed locked on the local's, nodding slowly to encourage his stand-down.

[Jax Bradshaw]

35th of Winter, 513 AV.

Jax pulled the coat further around his shoulders as he entered the half-full tavern. The warm air of the inside hit him gracefully. Jax smiled as he pushed the door shut behind him, closing the cold outside. He shook the snow off his boots and onto the floor. Jax shrugged off his coat and held it in his left hand. He shook the snow that had collected on his Quarterstaff off as well and surveyed the inside. It was just a run-of-the-mill tavern with drunkards at most intervals just being loud and generally annoying. There were not many women in sight except one that stood out at the bar. Jax spied an empty table and walked over, sitting down on a uncomfortable, wooden seat.

Jax draped his coat over the back of the chair and leaned the Quarterstaff on the table. He ran his hand through his hair and just left his head in his hand. Jax was still tired since he didn't sleep well last night in what Sunberthans call a bed. Come to think of it, Jax never got a good night's sleep unless he was blindly drunk, hence why he was in a tavern. Jax just closed his eyes, yawned and listened to the conversations of the tavern. Nothing very interesting. Just general hubbub. He looked up at the bar and saw it was somewhat crowded with drunken idiots who seemed they wanted to start a fight at any given moment. Jax looked about the tavern again, looking for anything else that was worth watching.

Jax jumped slightly when he heard the voices at the bar raising and everything in the tavern went quiet, and couldn't help but look over. It was that same woman he'd saw when he entered, shouting at a man who probably tried his luck with her or something silly like that. The woman threw her drink over the man, who obviously wasn't very pleased by the event. The girl drew her weapon as the man retorted something, and she proceeded to headbutt him. Jax winced at the attack, knowing it would hurt badly. The man recovered and did not look happy. At all. The pair stood, staring each other down. Jax stood up to get a better view over the crowd that had gathered, but one was just too tall so Jax picked up his Quarterstaff and walked over, pushing through the crowd to the front, though to the annoyance of some.

As he slid past the last woman at the front, he saw that King, the man he had met before on the streets of Sunberth, was trying to talk down the thug. Jax looked towards the woman, who looked positively ready to murder the man. Jax got over to her and stood infront, attempting to block her view of the other men. "It's not worth it," Jax said to her. "You never know who knows who here."

[Fallon]

There was a long moment of silence, the hushed air filled only with the groaning of feet upon the floor. The kukri was still held out, the tip held firm to point even as the gentle words of the first speaker - Adam - drifted across the tavern. Doubt, flickers, it hug heavy there for a moment a gentle tearing between two choices. Although there was the niggling itch for a fight resting on the back of her mind, it was not a blinding desire - Sunberth would no doubt provide plenty of opportunity for blood. There was a momentary drift away, reason was not beyond her.

Or at least until this fool presented himself before her. The second speaker - Jax - managed to do the opposite to what the first had achieved. It was in places like Sunberth that attempting to play hero was far from a good choice. By placing himself into the line of fire he not only achieved in potentially aggravating the local but her also. He made himself a threat, a spoke in a belittling fashion - achieving quickly in making the pair forced into the awkward position in making the other look weaker should either side give. Where before it could have been a simple stand down and shake. A sigh escaped, her gaze flittering from the local to the man who stood before her.

"You trying to play hero lad?" she gave a sigh, but her eyes remained sharp. Teeth flashed, a wicked smirk resting upon her face before her attention returned to the local. Her words however were still addressing to the second, "Here's the thing. You mister I am going to stand in the way of a live blade, have put yourself straight into the line of fire in two ways. Firstly, you don't know my temperament, I could be some craze psycho that will cut you down without a moment of notice." She gave him a prod with the tip of the Kukri as if confirming her point, "Secondly, you don't know who I know just as much as he doesn't, as well as vice versa. You're playing a blind hand with no information, stupid don't you think?"

The local went to protest, his brow creasing in annoyance. Lips were wetted, the husky tone creeping out from within. She gave a tilt of the chin to the local, her other hand lifting slightly. The firm voice came out, the under growl "I'll be with you in a moment, I feel the call to educate."

Her head snapped back to the second, "Your words will cause conflict, your mannerisms cause the others to put their backs up and refuse a stand down. What are you trying to achieve? Peace? Well as long as you stand in front you're not going to do that. You give the sign of wanting to fight. So do us all a favour. Speak your intentions or get out of my face, hero."

posting orderSo we remember:
Fallon, Adam, Jax, repeat.

[Adam King]

With Jax coming in and galvanising the situation back up through the choice of words, Adam all but slapped his forehead in fustration. Now, if the thug were to leave, it would be because someone asked the little girl nicely to let him go. And the reason to do so? That he might have friends. Not that he was dangerous in himself. Heading out of the door with a hit to your repution like that could get you abused for week or months afterwards, the sign of weakness a beacon for the many jackals of Sunberth. There was no choice to exit the situation, not for the thug anyway. But, as King was preparing to chime in to try and fix this, the kukri-wolf-lass spoke up, worlds flowing yet incisive. As Adam listened to the woman's assessment, thoughts closely mirroring his own and articulation of them likely better, a grin extended along with a feeling of rushing admiration. Shyke, guts, wit and mouth on that one. He turned around, deciding to lean back in total relaxation. She had this. She could hold the room, and the fight would go down if she wanted to. She needn't Adam to formulate a social exit from the situation for her nor Jax getting in her blade's way. Should he be worried for Jax, he wondered? Petch'm'. Self-righteous heroing deserves its Sunberth reaction. True help isn't given with with one putting their glorious self between blades. Adam jsut took a sip of the drink. If Jax looked his way at any point, he would nod him meaningfully away from the situation, perhpaps even mouthing "Get outta' there" voicelessly.

[Jax Bradshaw]

The woman's head snapped back to Jax after shouting at the thug, "Your words will cause conflict, your mannerisms cause the others to put their backs up and refuse a stand down. What are you trying to achieve? Peace? Well as long as you stand in front you're not going to do that. You give the sign of wanting to fight. So do us all a favour. Speak your intentions or get out of my face, hero."

Jax was a little taken aback at the lady's response, although he had somewhat expected it. After all, she was right. He was in Sunberth and everybody's as dangerous as the next. Even if they were a short woman. With a mean looking blade. Jax really should have not intervened and just watched the scene unfolded along with the rest of the tavern patrons. Jax had embarrassed himself but thought up a way to save himself, or at least he thought it would save his dignity.

Jax smiled into the woman's face, almost instantly losing the shocked expression his face had worn earlier. He looked over his shoulder, past King's and studied the thug's mannerisms and just general physical appearance and demeanor. Jax looked back at the kukri-holding lady and spoke in a somewhat calmer voice than he had previously. "Y'know what?" He said. "I reckon you can take him. I'll buy you a drink afterwards."

And with that, Jax took off towards the crowd, pondering whether or not he had made the correct decision. Whether or not that blade will end up in his back in the next five seconds. Like the girl said, you never know who's who in Sunberth. Only time would tell.